


press zero to speak to a long lost relative

by ciaconnaa



Series: press zero to speak to a long lost relative [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Gen, I took the prompt presumed dead and wrote a comedy, also the content is g rated but there's a few swear words, that's...that sums it up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:34:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22839391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ciaconnaa/pseuds/ciaconnaa
Summary: “Hello, thank you for calling Stark Industries, this is Melissa speaking. How may I help you?”Panic surges through Morgan’s blood and she grips the phone tighter, because she’s just now realizing she has no idea what she’s going to say. Like, seriously. What do you say?Hi, my name is Morgan Stark, my whole family thinks I'm dead but I'm actually not, I've just been hanging with Spider-Man while they experimented and tortured us and I'd like to go home please?No. That's crazy. Gotta start somewhere else.“Hi. Okay, I’ve got a bit of a...weird problem.”or;Morgan and Peter's rescue depends on convincing the newbie working the phones over at the Stark Industries customer service line that they're the real deal.
Relationships: Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: press zero to speak to a long lost relative [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1684891
Comments: 86
Kudos: 1222





	press zero to speak to a long lost relative

**Author's Note:**

> peter is mid twenties and morgan is a teen in this! enjoy

“Are you okay?”

Morgan whines slightly as she feels Peter’s hands gently grip her chin, tilting her head right and left; she squeezes her eyes more tightly in protest. “I’m not hurt - the sun is just bright.”

“Yeah, I remember that feeling. Don’t worry, you get used to it,” Peter mumbles. As he lets go of her chin his words sink in and something in her chest flutters; she opens her eyes.

They don’t know where they are. Wherever it is, it’s quite beautiful - rolling hills in the foreground and large, white snow-capped mountains in the back. It looks like something out of a Bob Ross painting, filled with colors she didn’t even know existed.

“Do you see it, too?” Peter whispers. 

She looks out the corner of her eye to see him staring in the distance, close to the setting sun. “You mean the sunset? Because yes, I see the sunset.”

“Yeah, but like...the psychedescent.” 

“Psychedescent?”

“The color,” he says, still so softly. “I - it’s the name I have for it. Psychedelic and Iridescent? I combined the two because - anyway. I don’t think anyone else can see it. Until….uh, now.”

Morgan bites the inside of her cheek and forces herself to look down. Somehow, the color doesn’t feel like it’s _hers_ to be seen. Sure, she may have wanted nothing but to be like Peter Parker her whole life but she never imagined _this -_

She stares at her bare feet. Her shoes were a casualty in their escape from the underground lab and when she looks closely, she sees the toes on her right foot are badly bruised and likely broken. But she’s been walking like everything’s fine, like everything’s _normal._

But Morgan’s not normal anymore.

When she braves a look back up at the sunset, she finds a much more blinding sight - Peter’s smile. It’s a welcome sight, and once a rare find when they were being held hostage for the last weeks? Months? 

“How…” She looks around, as if there were someone else around to ask. The only other company they have is a sign along the highway they’ve been walking on that says _Fox Hollow - 5 Miles._ “How long do you think we’ve been gone?”

Peter blows out a long breath, eyes drifting up in thought. “I kept track best I could, but I don’t know. My best guess is about two months.”

Morgan winces. “My mom and dad are gonna freak.”

He snorts, pulling her close and resting an arm on her shoulder. He’s still looking at the sunset as it shifts, the colors transforming into more she doesn’t know - she wonders if Peter’s named those, too. “That’s an understatement, considering they probably think we’re dead.”

“Don’t _say_ that,” Morgan growls, slapping him on the arm. Peter winces - _actually winces,_ not like when she was little and he’d pretend to cower in her wake - and he jumps away from her. 

_“Fuck,_ Morgan! Easy on the super strength.”

She winces, suddenly holding her arms closely to her sides. Her fingers curl and uncurl nervously. “Sorry.”

He’s still rubbing his bruised arm, but his expression softens. “No, I’m sorry. I know it takes time to get used to it.”

God, she does not want to think about how she will have to get _used to it._ All these colors and sounds are positively dizzying. “Can we just…” Morgan pauses, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Keep walking? To try and find civilization? Or like, a phone?”

“Phone exists within civilization.”

“Pete.”

“Okay, okay,” he whispers - how quietly she doesn’t know. Maybe it’s something the wind can’t even carry, a gift only for her ears. He keeps looking at the sunset. “But first we have to see psychedescent turn into the color _sizzle_ . You won’t want to miss it.”

* * *

Turns out phones _do_ exist outside of civilization in the form of a long lost payphone.

Peter rambles about how it feels like something out of a comic, maybe a horror film - Morgan points out that their kidnapping and continued hostage situation sort of already checked that box. If Bigfoot wants to come out and fight she’ll square up - she’s going home, no matter the cost.

Well, maybe.

Why there’s a pay phone in the middle of a road is beyond her. Peter says something about an old collapsed mine up the mountain being the reason, which is an interesting story and all, but it doesn’t help them with their quest for contact, or even knowledge of where they are. Luckily, there was enough spare change left by the last long lost soul who blew through town. For how long the call will last, that’s anyone’s guess between the two of them. 

The phone booth is piled high with layers of old posters and flyers - there's even a poster for Burger King and Morgan could _die._ She'd kill to get her hands on a Whopper. To quell her hunger she distracts herself, picking at the posters with the index finger she broke yesterday and tries not to marvel at the lack of pain. “Call MJ.”

Peter nods, picks up the phone, and grabs the spare coins before a vacant look crosses his face. He’s left frozen, quarters just in front of the slot when Morgan realizes:

“You don’t know her number, do you?”

Peter lets out a long, suffering sigh. “It was on my phone! Who memorizes phone numbers anymore?”

Morgan would tease him for it except: “Yeah, I don’t know mom or dad’s numbers, either.”

His fingers drum against the box whole Morgan nervously _picks picks picks._ “Happy’s?”

She shakes her head. “May?”

“Don’t know that one either. Ned?”

“Ned? Why would I know Ned’s number, he’s _your_ best friend-“

“Look, I’m just trying anyone and everyone. Rhodey?”

“Nope. Flash Thompson?”

“ _Hah._ Wouldn’t that be hilarious. Don’t have it, though.”

Morgan frowns, pulling more firmly on the posters that they come off. “Great. We’re gonna die here in the middle of Bumfuck, Wyoming -“

“You think we’re in Wyoming?” Peter says, hopeful. “Because I was thinking maybe Idaho but -“

More posters come down as Morgan gives a cry of anguish. The two of them watch as it peels like old wallpaper before revealing what just might be their saving grace 

An old advert for Stark Industries.

With the phone number.

“You think it’s the same?”

Peter is already putting the coins in. “Only one way to find out. It’s either that or 911.”

Yeah, Morgan does _not_ want to be on the news. “Okay yeah, let’s give it a shot.”

The last few weeks - months? - might have been hell for them, but at least everything about this phone booth is magical and lucky. The number _is_ the same, and seconds later they get the typical company introductory greeting:

_“Thank you for calling Stark Industries, global pioneer in innovation and green technologies. If you know your party’s extension, enter it now.”_

There’s a small pause and Morgan uses it to help Peter cut to the chase. “Just press zero. Zero is always for an actual representative.”

_“For tech support, please press one.”_

“Peter, just press _zero -”_

Peter pulls the phone away from her. “Hold on, I want to hear what else -”

_“For billing and accounting, please press two.”_

“Press _zero -”_

_“For education outreach, please press three.”_

“Does Happy work with education outreach now?”

“No, he’s still _security._ For the love of god press ZERO _-”_

_“For research and development, please press four.”_

“I don’t think security will have an extension -”

_“For tours and ticketing information, please press five.”_

Morgan gets fed up and rips the phone out of his hands before slapping her hand over the _zero_ on the keypad. It takes a moment but the phone transfers her and lo and behold, she gets a real live person to talk to.

“Hello, thank you for calling Stark Industries, this is Melissa speaking. How may I help you?”

Panic surges through Morgan’s blood because she’s just now realizing she has no idea what she’s going to say. She grips the phone tighter in her hand, so much that Peter has to loosen her grip before she crushes it, all while prompting her to say something. “Hi. Okay, I’ve got a bit of a...weird problem.”

“That’s fine,” Melissa says. “I’m here to try and sort that out. Is it your StarkPhone? Do you need to speak with tech support?”

“Um...No.” Morgan says, scratching helplessly at her head while she tries to think of how exactly she tells them who she is and the absolute _pickle_ she’s found herself in. “I should start with.” Pause, she thinks. Ease into it. “Okay yeah, so my name is Morgan.”

“Okay, Morgan.” There’s some typing. “Can I have your last name to look you up in the system?”

Ah, fuck it. “Yeah, it’s Stark?”

Silence.

She trudges on. “S-T-A-R-K. Morgan Stark.”

More silence. Then,

“Morgan Stark?”

“Yeah.”

“As in….”

“Like, the real deal. Tony and Pepper’s daughter, all that jazz. It’s me. Not that I would expect you to believe me, and that’s okay!” she hurries out the last part. “I just need to know...the extension of the person that I _do_ need to talk to so that I may...uh. Prove my identity.”

Peter gives her two thumbs up, but it feels sarcastic. Meanie.

It seems like eons before Melissa finally responds. “Yeah, okay. Sorry. We...I...There’s no protocol for this.”

“I understand.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“I understand.”

“I’ve had this job three days.”

“I understand.” 

“The news said you died four months ago.”

 _“Four months!?”_ Morgan yells - Peter flinches. So much for his internal clock being of any help. “Damn. I had it pegged for two.”

“I don’t have Mrs. Potts extension. Or - or Mr. Stark’s. They don’t...really give them to us. Do you,” Melissa blows out a long breath. “Do you have a staff name - besides the Starks - that I can possibly direct you to?”

The panic is still coursing through her veins at full speed when the metaphorical idea light bulb goes off above her head. “Yeah!” she almost shouts. “Peter Parker, he’s in R&D.”

 _What are you doing?_ Peter mouths just as Melissa makes a confused sound over the phone.

“Umm.” There’s a few clicks of a keyboard, then it stops. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but. Peter Parker also disappeared when you went missing. They never found - uh -”

“...Bodies?”

She can practically hear her cringe over the phone. “Yeah. sorry. Reports say they were likely...incinerated?”

“Jesus _fucking -”_

“- at their lake side cabin home-”

“God,” Peter whispers. “Like Uncle Owen from Star Wars.”

“-and Morgan and Peter were both legally declared dead.”

“Well,” Peter scoffs, playing the act of affronted, “I sure do hope our funerals were lavish. I specifically asked your dad that I be buried in the Mark 45, like, _years ago,_ so that thing better be six feet in the ground next to Uncle Ben or -”

As Peter goes off on his little nervous tangent, Morgan can hear Melissa pull away from the phone. There’s whispers of _who are you talking to_ and _I don’t know, I don’t know_ followed by a bunch of garble she can’t quite understand despite the new enhanced hearing.

Something tickles the back of her neck and her anxiety spikes. 

They’re gonna hang up on her.

“Melissa. Melissa, listen to me. Real quick.” She grips the phone, and nothing Peter can do can stop her from leaving indents of her finger in the handle. “Peter Parker’s phone is somewhere that Tony will be able to hear it. It’s in his lab. If I can just transfer me, I can leave a message and then my dad will know that we’re -”

There’s more scuffling followed by a _gimme_ and then Melissa is replaced with a much scarier sounding supervisor. “Hi. Miss _Stark_ is it? This is Aileen, I’m the officer manager on duty right now.”

She knows where this is going. “Aileen, all I need is Peter’s extension -”

“My directory is up right now and Peter Parker is no longer an employee at Stark Industries-”

Peter finally chooses _now_ to butt in. “Hi, yeah, _I know,_ I’ve been underground with my head shaved being poked and prodded and experimented on like something out of Stranger Things -”

Aileen charges on. “He and Morgan Stark have passed away. I do not intend to toy with the Starks feeling by presenting them with a potential false hope, so, if you _really_ say you are who you think you are -”

“I _am.”_

“Then I would encourage you to call 911. They will be better suited to help you than I can.”

Another, split-second, bird-brained idea hits Morgan. Her last chance. “Tell him I have Peter with me and we’re okay and I’m a spider now and I love him three thousand -”

“Goodbye.”

The harsh noise of an end call tone echoes in her ear. 

“She is _so_ getting fired,” Peter huffs as he throws the phone back on the receiver; he forgets his own strength and adds a few finger indentations of his own. “I can’t believe she hung up on you.”

Morgan shrugs. “I’m sure there’s protocols for identity impersonation ever since Dad went missing in Afghanistan. There’s no telling how many sick fuckos tried to cash in saying they were us or they knew where we were.”

“God. It’s like you’re Anastasia.”

She brushes the comparison off and walks away from the phone booth- the sun has set and the sky is getting dark, fast, but when she looks up at a cloudless sky, she sees more stars than the could ever count, tinted in more hues she’s not familiar with. 

The spider powers and the slow reveal of her mutations are scary- but she’s comforted knowing that while she has to deal with the noise, the strength, the _hypersensitivity,_ there’s also a whole new rainbow for her to discover.

“Gotta name for this?” she asks, whispering to him.

“No,” he says. “Light pollution in NYC. Never saw it. But it's ....”

“....Indiglitter.”

Peter bumps his shoulder with hers. “Yeah. Indiglitter is good.”

The air cools and chills around them, but they stare at the sky until their necks start to get sore. “We should probably keep going,” Peter says. “Someone can help us at the town up the road in the morning.”

Morgan snorts, loud. “Hah! No way. I’m not staying out here in the cold all night, are you crazy? We’ll go into hibernation or something.”

He stares at her like she’s grown a second head. “I highly doubt that.”

“Well, what about bears?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this - but I think you and I can take a bear.”

Morgan shakes her head. “No. I’m staying right here.”

“Morgan. Be reasonable.”

She looks over at him, eyes sparkling like the stars in the sky. “I am.”

Behind them, the phone at the phone booth starts ringing.

Right on time.

She grins. “FRIDAY monitors all phone calls.”

Peter catches on, mirroring her grin. “Love you three thousand.”

“Our ultra super secret code phrase.”

Morgan takes a few steps back, lines her fingers up in the indentations Peter left behind, and picks up the phone.

There’s a loud, shuddering breath, and she swears she hears the ramming of his heartbeat on the other line. 

“....Morgan? P-Peter? Is that….is that really you guys?”

She smiles, tears immediately pooling in her eyes. 

“Hi, Daddy.”

Morgan can hear Tony burst into tears as she pulls the phone back a bit; Peter presses his cheek to hers. She can already tell he's getting choked up as well.

“Hey, Mister Stark," he whispers. “Think we can get a ride?”

**Author's Note:**

> i think there's a few spiders that scientists think can see more colors than humans so!!! I thought it'd be fun to try and put that in a fic!!! it's very hard to imagine colors that like...I can't see, so I did my best. kinda fun!
> 
> i also got the idea of the phone booth in the middle of nowhere from the one in the mojave desert! so i guess in the mcu phone booths are still a thing, but few and far, and one is in the middle of the mountains heheheheh
> 
> this whole fic is mega dumb but I just thought the scenario was too funny to pass up. hopefully you get a chuckle!


End file.
